Midnight Houses, Morning Rubble
by DearSweetPapercut
Summary: "Tonight was not the night to be thinking about him. Tonight was not the night to contemplate the decisions she had made." Sara struggles with memories, regrets and uncertainty the night before her wedding.


This one is inspired by "Right Girl" by The Maine.

I really hope you all like it, and aren't bored with my Sandle one-shots! Please be lovely and review :)

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.

**Midnight Houses, Morning Rubble **

The night air wrapped around her bare shoulders like the way his touch lingered. The darkness seemed to be consuming her like his longing. The lump building up in her throat and the knots tightening in her stomach let her know it was wrong to be thinking about him. Tears burnt in her eyes as she walked the crowded streets. The "bride-to-be" sash that she wore felt like a shackle. The expensive, quirky Pandora engagement ring felt like a weight dragging her down to the bottom of murky, suffocating waters.

Tonight was not the night to be thinking about him.

Tonight was not the night to contemplate the decisions she had made.

xxx

He sat at home completely oblivious to the conflicts she was experiencing. A beer in his hand, that night's game and a pizza. _This is the life_- he thought to himself, _at least this was as good as it's going to get. _He wasn't defeated- he would remind himself every so often. He was too young, he had too much going on, to be defeated.

Having spent many sleepless nights assessing the various things that had happened to him over the years he had come to the conclusion that he believed in fate. Fate was the only thing that could explain the decision and mistakes that he had made. It was the only thing that he could use to explain their relationship.

Fate was also a cover, a sort of defence, from recognising the consequences of what he had done.

He pinned the pain, the disappointment, the guilt to something he couldn't control or change and for the first time in a long time had accepted the feeling of helplessness.

xxx

She stood outside his house, her hands curled into fists as if she was ready for a fight, but in all honesty a fight was the last thing she wanted. She wanted the opposite. She wanted him to sweep her off her feet like the men in Mills and Boon books and she wanted him to suggest they run away. But that would never happen because all of those years ago she had made her choice and he had made his.

Now here she was having run away from her own bachelorette party standing in front of his house without the courage to speak to him, to tell him the truth. It would be too late tomorrow.

_Tomorrow. _The word echoed in her mind. It was not to be like any other day, it was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, it was supposed to be the day she finally got the commitment she wanted from the man she loved.

It was not until she was faced with the dim lighting and swanky furniture of the Revolution Lounge at the Mirage to celebrate what was jokingly referred to as "her last day of freedom" that she realised she didn't know whether it was love or simply settling.

It was this thought that forced her into action.

xxx

He heard the sound of a fist relentlessly colliding with his door begging for his attention. He picked himself from his relaxed state a frown appearing across his features, with a sigh he swung the door open expecting his next door neighbour to be on the other side with her overfriendly (but marginally irritating-he noted) personality and boyfriend problems.

But there stood the woman that was at the centre of his problems.

Sara Sidle- the soon to be Mrs Grissom.

xxx

She stepped past him without being invited in knowing full well if given the opportunity he would turn her away, tell her to go back to her bachelorette party and get drunk if she was getting cold feet not to turn up at his place _the night before her wedding_.

Before had closed the door she had taken of her sash and was undoing the zipper on her dress. Quickly she pushed the straps off her shoulders, the dress pooling on the floor, revealing her La Perla lingerie.

"Fuck me Greg." She said after turning to face him, her dark eyes as serious as he had ever seen them.

"No." He responded. Greg stepped closer to her and he bent down to pick up her dress, he could sense the way her breath hitched slightly as he did so. He offered her back the dress but Sara stood in front of him defiant and assured.

"Just let me get this out of my system." She rationalised- _perhaps it was not Greg she really wanted, perhaps it was just one wild, wrong, sinful release before the rest of her life._

"No." He said again, staring her down with his gaze. But she wasn't about to give up that easy, encircling his wrist she pulled his hand to her body.

"I'm going to marry him tomorrow." The words just came out in a whisper.

xxx

Memories stirred in their minds that one night they had let their defences down played like a scene from the silver screen. Her relationship with their supervisor had been on the rocks like her fifth double Jack Daniels and he had been the sympathetic ear he had always been.

Greg had known it was wrong but he had imagined how her crying on his shoulder would one day lead to...well...sex... It was _oh so wrong_ for him to think like that but he couldn't lie to himself. And that night when she asked if he wanted to come in he let the booze and his dick do the thinking.

The next morning he left before she woke up, leaving behind nothing but a short note apologising for how stupid he had been the night before and how it was in their best interest to forget what they had done.

_But neither one of them had forgotten._

It was clear from the looks they saw in each other's eyes in that moment that told the other, they had not simply forgotten a drunken mistake but rather kept a secret that had led them to doubt everything in their lives.

She had thought about it when things got tough at home- when she felt like Grissom was insufferable. She would remember his touch and his kisses in order to spite her fiancé in twisted sort of way.

He thought about it almost every time he saw her. His eyes would linger where the edges of her clothes would meet her skin, recalling the feel of her beneath him and the sound of her frantic husky whispers for him not to stop.

xxx

Greg pulled Sara's shivering body towards him one arm wrapped around her waist the other pushing her dark curls out of the way. Placing a gentle kiss on her lips he picked her up and carried her to his bed room.

He gently placed here down and paused for mere seconds. There was guilt rising up inside him for what he was about to do to a man he truly respected. There was fear of hurting a woman he truly loved. Pushing those thoughts out of his mind he did what she had originally asked of him not holding anything back dominating her, placing her in the positions he wanted her in.

But as he lay wide awake next to her afterwards he realised that he had done the wrong thing to the right girl. All of those years ago he should have stayed. He should have proved he was the better man rather than letting her go as if she was just another one night stand.

She had found happiness. She was going to settle. She had found someone who had loved her. And he knew he should have sent her home tonight not slept with her.

He whispered into her ear, dipping his head into the elegant curve of her neck taking a deep breath of her scent. _"If you ever need someone to pick up the pieces in your life..."_

xxx

The next morning she woke to find her body pulled flush against him, his arms wrapped tightly around her as if to protect her. Sara didn't move and for a few moments indulged in a fantasy in which today was not her wedding day.

She slid out from under him silently and dressed herself knowing that her bridesmaids would all be up and waiting for her explanations and excuses for ducking out on them the night before. She worked on her story of wanting home comforts knowing it would pass as her soon-to-be husband was staying with her soon-to-be mother in law.

It felt slightly ridiculous to her having such a traditional wedding even though they were far from traditional. Then again it felt ridiculous having a wedding when she was this far from sure.

Greg slept softly not waking at the sound of her footsteps around his house. She pulled the duvet around his shoulders and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Standing at the end of the bed with a tear in her dress where she had rushed to take it off the previous night she shed a tear for what could never be.

xxx

He couldn't understand why had come to watch the woman he loved marry someone else but there he was being ushered to his seat in the front row by Catherine.

Greg tried to listen closely but every time he would catch Sara's eye as she was saying her vows everything seemed to stop. He noticed the way her lips quivered slightly as she spoke, her hands clasped together in front of her, the tears she blinked away.

He wanted so much to stand up and tell people this couldn't happen. They couldn't get married because he and Sara loved each other.

That it should be him up there.

xxx

Sara could feel her heart sink as she saw him over Grissom's shoulder, watching her intently with a dark look.

"I do." The words just seemed to fall out of her mouth before she could take them back. There was no going back now.

And as she looked into the clear blue eyes of her husband she could feel her life flash by.

The rest of the ceremony and reception seemed to disappear into a blur, but they both kept their distance from each other knowing that the consequences of proximity could be catastrophic.

As the newly married couple drove off towards the airport Sara cast one last glance over her shoulder she caught his eye. She watched as he disappeared becoming ever smaller in the distance. She took a deep breath and turned to her husband leaving her hopes with him and starting again.

xxx

The last she had given him causing a shiver to swim down his spine and his heart to sink. He saw the pain in her eyes as she let of him. And he felt it like a knife to his gut when she turned away.

_He had done the wrong thing to the right girl._

He had let her go.

**The End **


End file.
